…
"I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death."
(Robert Fulghum)
…
Serenity Valley, October 11th, 7:59 PM, 2183
…
"So… It was an awful job, working as a traffic controller, but it did have its moments." Jack reminisced as we all listened intently, gathered around a large fire. "One of the pilots in the shuttles waiting to depart shouts "I'm fucking bored!" into the channel, causing our specialist to shout "Last shuttle transmitting, identify yourself immediately!" They replied back with "I said I was fucking bored, not fucking stupid!"
I laughed once more at Jack as he told us another one of his old stories. All of us were sitting outside, enjoying a few beers in celebration of my 31st birthday. The crew had managed to scrounge up enough supplies to make me a small cake. No icing or candles, but still incredibly good for being out in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.
They had all surprised me with this after returning home from Dolor. I had honestly forgotten that it was my birthday, but they sure didn't. The presents were proof enough of that.
Lydia, Richard, and Powell somehow got me a physical copy of the original Fallout, which they had heard me praising a few months ago. It was still in its original CD case, and thanks to modern scanner technology, I'd never have to open it. It had been a few years since I've played video games, so this would be refreshing.
Jack and Sira went through the effort of finding me a new Tiger I schematic poster to replace the one I lost on Aldrin. They remembered it being proudly mounted on my wall there, and knew I was a fan of old, German tanks from the Second World War.
Lenlo, Kirva, and Biss all pitched in to make me a beautiful, woven quilt in my favorite color, green. It was rather large compared to the one's I've normally seen, though. I suppose they wanted it to be more unique for this occasion. It featured an Explorer-shaped crest in the middle, which I really liked.
Dan and Dimitri pulled out all the stops for me. They somehow managed to get their hands on a M1911A1 handgun. The famous, all-American Colt 45 semi-automatic pistol, designed by John Browning, and featuring his tried and true short-recoil system. They even got a leather shoulder holster to go with it.
"Where did you two find this?" I asked with a wide-eyed expression, holding it carefully as I looked over the gunmetal grey firearm. On the slide, the Latin term "Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat" was laser engraved, meaning "Fortune favors the brave."
Dan added that. No question about it.
"All you need to know is that it wasn't easy." Dimitri remarked with a smile, putting his hand on my shoulder. "This isn't modern reproduction, either. This is Vietnam-era. I added a threaded barrel so you could use silencer."
"It's n-not a shitty conversion to m-mass accelerator mechanics either. It's gunpowder city." Dan quipped, pulling out four small boxes of 45. caliber ammunition. "Enjoy, dude."
I nodded to him without a word, opening one of the boxes, ejecting the empty magazine from the 1911 and loading seven rounds into it. I then took the silencer and screwed it onto the barrel to remove the need for earplugs. Once the mag was inserted, I hit the slide release with my thumb, and was ready to rock and roll.
Dan grabbed one of our empty beer bottles and put it on the top of an old log. I took aim, lining up my shot before pulling the trigger. The bottle shattered into pieces as the round tore through it, sending a sharp crack through the air. The recoil felt just like it had all those years ago at that range in Jessup, Maryland.
"Bullseye!" I said with a big, dumb smile plastered on my face. I received a standard applause from everyone around me, making my smile grow even bigger.
I pulled the mag out and ejected the round that was in the chamber, thanking them both before looking around at Mara.
"My present is something special." She remarked with a small smile and crossed arms. "I'll show you later."
"OK then." I nodded back to her as we all began drinking again.
A whole hour passed before everything calmed down. Everyone had gone back to their housing units at varying levels of drunk, even Dan, who rarely drank alcohol. At that point, I was still only slightly buzzed, but if Mara's gift for me was another bottle of Jameson Irish Whisky like last year, that would change very fast.
I began to gather all my stuff to take back to me and Mara's humble little abode. I carefully folded the tapestry and threw it over my shoulder, while pocketing the 1911A1 and the copy of Fallout. I tucked the boxes of bullets and the poster under both arms respectively before making the short walk home.
When I opened the door, she wasn't in our normal living space. I could hear the faint sound of music coming from the other room, however. I put my gifts down on the table, walking over and opening the door.
I was not expecting what I saw at all.
Mara was laying on all fours on our bed, wearing some black lingerie. It was a bra, some panties, and some stockings, all lacy with thin straps. She had undone the bun her blond hair was usually in, letting it hang out all around her head haphazardly. Her lips were a bright crimson color, shining in the moody lighting. I wasn't paying much attention to it at the time, but I think she was playing some of my music in the background, specifically "La femme d'argent" by Air.
"Happy birthday, Sean." She said in an inviting, seductive tone, leaning towards me to show off her fairly ample cleavage. "It wasn't easy to get a hold of this… so why don't you and I have some fun tonight?"
Not a moment had passed before I was already pulling off my shoes and socks, undoing my coat, pants and shirt, throwing it all to the floor. I jumped into the bed, fully embracing her as the lights went off.
This was the best birthday ever... the best anyone could ask for.
…
Cairo Station, November 21st, 9:28 AM, 2183
…
I checked over the reports flowing in from the build teams, scratching the side of my mask as I leaned back in one of the Command Center chairs. I thought about the name I had given the station, remembering that deep down, I was still a massive nerd.
Now that the station's primary support systems were in operation, progress had begun on the actual MAC gun. I had solved the loading mechanism issue by installing two miniature mass effect cores along the inside lining of the loader. These produced a field that lowered the overall mass of the actual mechanism, helping it move much faster and even boosting the charge that it could supply to the coils.
The magnetic coils themselves were the trickiest part of this whole process now. Each of the twelve oversized coils had to be lined up perfectly inside the barrel, otherwise the round could veer off in the wrong direction, possibly right into the inside of the barrel. Each one had to be made out of a very specific length of copper, with a highly focused iron core. If any of them were not built properly, the gun would be underpowered.
I wanted to one-shot anything that enters this system. Can't do that with defective coils.
The crew of the MFV Odkrycie, which was an old Turian cruiser harkening back to their early spaceflight days, recently volunteered to be the first crewmembers to occupy the station. Their ship had been irreparably damaged by asteroids during a scouting mission out near the Nemean Abyss. With how badly their ship was damaged, they were lucky to return at all.
Their crew consisted of 683 people, not counting children. That would leave 1,317 open slots left on the station's official crew roster once they were all settled in. If there was ever an emergency in the Fleet and we needed to take in more than that, we could harbor at least 4,000 more if we made use of the cargo bays and all the other open spaces. I hoped it would never come to that.
The station had been pressurized two weeks ago much to my delight and the delight of the old Odkrycie crew. They had begun moving in, and were actually having a difficult time adjusting to the new accommodations. I doubt any of them have ever seen this much open space inside a space vessel.
I gave the old captain, Cyi'Keno vas Odkrycie, the tremendous job of being the one in charge of the station. He had a good background, too. Successfully fought off a lot of pirate attacks over the last eight years, tactically-minded, and was well liked by his crew. He was perfect for this.
I packed my personal datapad back into my rucksack as I got up to go on another walk. This had become a normal routine for me. Every Monday morning I took a shuttle up to Cairo Station to do another walk of the entire station's interior. It was always a peaceful experience for me, going through to see what small changes had been made.
I walked into Habitat Alpha, seeing that everyone from the Odkrycie was settling in nicely. Traditional Quarian quilts now covered the walls of the living quarters, doing a surprisingly good job at dampening the sound in the general area. Botanists from one of the Liveships were also here planting some dextro-amino plants. They were quite simple, but would provide a good source of oxygen and help filter carbon dioxide out of the air.
They also looked quite nice. The idea of gardens on space vessels really grew on me during the time I spent in the Fleet. Thinking harder about the Fleet itself, I began pondering some recent statistics in my head.
About 3/5ths of the Flotilla were equipped with Reach Systems by this point, ever since we began assisting the Quarians. All the core ships in the Fleet, including the Liveships, had the system now. The major focus at the moment was on fleet cruisers, then focus would be shifted to frigates. According to rates projected by Lydia, the entire fleet, not counting smaller ships, would be equipped with our system by the end of 2185.
That estimate actually worried me. If the Admirals believed the Reach System would be a big enough advantage, they would likely attack the Geth in a last ditch effort to reclaim their homeworld. I still didn't know how I felt about the issue. While I understood what the Quarians were going through, Richard insisted that the Geth weren't bad, and I had no reason to deny his assessment. They had saved his life, after all.
I shook the thought out my head, continuing on my walk.
Once at the southern portion of the station, I hopped into the main cargo elevator that spanned the entire length of the MAC. I took it down a few floors to investigate the main reactor. The doors opened, revealing a room drenched in a flickering blue glow.
The Nemo-Michaels reactor we installed on this station was much larger than the normal, shipboard ones we've used. It was scaled up to provide more power for the MAC exclusively. The standard reactor in its Mark II configuration generated roughly 2.9 petawatts of electricity an hour if running at full blast. This one was capable of producing 4.4 petawatts in the same conditions.
The MAC takes an incredible amount of electricity to function, mostly to charge the coils. If we went with dual NM reactors, there was a chance that the station could experience brownouts when operating in combat situations. It was easier just to enlarge our older design for this purpose.
Just as I was about to take the elevator down further to investigate progress on the loading mechanism and ammo storage, my omni-tool began playing "Dating Start!" from the Undertale soundtrack.
Lydia was calling me.
"Hello Lady Mohawk." I greeted with a small smirk on my face.
"You know I hate that nickname." She replied back in an unamused tone, as I barely kept myself from chuckling. "My brother and Dimi are both asking when you'll be back. They want to discuss those walker schematics with you."
"Alright, tell them I'll be at the lab in about half an hour." I said, hopping in the elevator once more.
"Will do." She finished, cutting the line a second later.
As the elevator began moving, I started to think of other kinds of ammunition we could make for the MAC to fire. Considering the significant force the thing already put behind the rounds, there was only one, highly dangerous alternative I could think of.
If we could find a good source of Uranium and enrich it, we would be capable of constructing a gun-type nuclear round suitable for long-range engagements on large masses of ships. When firing, the two fissile materials wouldn't make contact with one another, separated by a safety pin. When colliding with a target, however, the two ends would hit each other, becoming instantly critical.
It wouldn't have that large of a yield, considering it would only be a Uranium composition, but the nuclear explosion and the following EMP would effectively cripple an invading force. It would never happen, though. Not only would it be incredibly difficult to work with, radiation and all, but if the Council even got a scent of nuclear energy, they would descend on us without a moments notice.
As soon as I stepped into the southwestern end of the station where my shuttle was docked, my omni-tool began beeping again. This time, it was a priority vidcall from Admiral Han'Gerrel of all people.
"Hello Admiral." I greeted, wiping a smudge mark off of my faceplate. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"As a matter of fact, there is." He said, leaning forwards with his hands folded. "We've been dealing with an odd situation here in the Fleet, and we'd like you have you here to help."
"What kind of situation are we talking about?" I prodded further, my eyebrows jumping up into the air.
"One of our own, Lemm'Shal nar Tesleya, returned from their Pilgrimage three days ago, but their gift is rather… unusual." He said slowly, likely thinking about how to phrase his words. "He brought three humans with him, an adult male, adult female, and a young girl. We currently have them under quarantine."
"So why do you want me there?" I asked, beginning to get a little suspicious. "How am I supposed to help?"
"One of these humans, the woman, is Kahlee Sanders, and Alliance scientist who has been rumored have worked on synthetic intelligence in the past, much like your colleague, Dr. Karpyshyn." He explained, looking off to the side for a few seconds before looking back. "We want to invite you on as a Conclave representative, perhaps help us connect to her on that unique, "human" level."
I stood in silence for a few moments, pondering his request.
"Can I bring my crew with me?" I inquired, looking hard at him.
"You can bring a single member of your crew with you." He replied in a sterner tone, sitting straight again. "So, will you join us?"
I paused again, just for a second.
"Alright, I'll be your rep." I agreed, nodding slightly. "What time do you want us there?"
"Raan and I, along with two other representatives from the Conclave will depart from the Rayya in two hours for the Idenna." He finished, nodding back to me in approval. "Thank you, Captain."
"Your welcome, Admiral." I said, as the screen went dark.
I simply stood there for a minute, thinking about every possibility in my head. The meeting wasn't going to take place on the Rayya, which I thought was kind of odd, but instead on Captain Mal's ship. I pondered the reasons behind this before flicking the omni-tool back on.
"Lydia?" I called, connecting to her after a few seconds.
"Yes Sean?" She replied back in her usual tone.
"Tell Dan and Dimitri that something's come up, and tell Mara to get back to the homestead for a pickup." I ordered, beginning my walk back to the shuttle. "We're taking the Explorer back to the Fleet."
"What's going on?" She inquired, sounding very curious all of the sudden.
"I'll tell you later, just make sure you and Mara are ready to go by the time I'm there." I finished, hopping into the old shuttle we had stolen from the Blue Suns.
I really hoped this didn't turn into another SNAFU.
…
MFV Explorer, November 21st, 10:54 AM, 2183
…
I was seated in the Captain's chair, thinking about the upcoming meeting in my head over and over again. Mara was seated to my left in the communications chair, while Lenlo manned the pilot's station. Lydia was secretly in the ship's computer systems as per usual, looking over everything as we made our approach to the Fleet. All of them had been briefed on the current situation.
I had made sure to wear my nicest, clean lab coat for this meeting, along with my old green knitted sweater underneath of it for warmth. I was also wearing one of my many pairs of jeans with my combat boots. Mara thought it was silly to wear them together, but I liked it.
She was wearing a lab coat as well, though underneath of it she wore a blue long-sleeved V-neck shirt. Below that, she wore a simple, black long skirt with a matching pair of flats. Her hair was tied into its usual bun, considering she hadn't changed it before we left.
I took my Colt 1911 out of its shoulder holster, making sure the slide still moved back and forth easily before putting it back in. I had made a habit out of keeping it with me whenever I went out somewhere. Call me paranoid.
The moment we were within range, I stood up and opened a line with Fleet control.
"This is Sean'Michaels vas Explorer, requesting permission to dock with the Rayya." I said, staring ahead at the grey cloud that was the Fleet once more.
"Confirmed. Please transmit access codes." The controller requested, as I leaned forward to transmit our current codes.
"Life is like sand, drifting through the wind." I said, sitting slightly straighter as I waited for a reply.
"Permission granted. Welcome back, Captain. Please approach Docking Cradle 9. The Admirals are waiting for you at Bay 17." The controlled replied, as I nodded to the voice in approval.
"Thank you." I finished before Mara closed the connection.
"Just a regular day, huh?" Mara remarked, looking back at me before getting up from her station.
"So far." I replied, crossing my arms and letting out a small puff of air before throwing my mask back on. "Lenlo, you're in charge until we get back."
"Yes'sir." He nodded back to me before a thump resonated through the hull.
Mara and I hopped into the airlock, letting the decon cycle a bit longer to reduce the chance of contamination. My mask was outfitted with a small, side-mounted LED flashlight, along with an automated GUI and a green paint job. Mara's was red, and had a built-in datapad display.
Even though my friends and I were effectively neutered germ-wise by this point and didn't need suits, we still made the effort to wear our protective masks on Quarian vessels as a sign of respect and decency. I imagined it could possibly annoy those who weren't used to being around us, like our lab volunteers back on Reach.
I also liked how I haven't had a cold in two years.
"Lydia, anything unusual on the comms?" I asked in the isolation of the airlock, looking to the camera.
"No, nothing that I can pick up." She replied through the intercom, sounding perplexed. "All's quiet at the moment."
"Alright, well keep an eye out just in case." I said, looking back to Mara. "You still feeling good about this?"
"I feel fine, don't know what you're so anxious about." She replied in a slightly mocking tone before giving me a playful shove. "Lighten up a bit."
"Yeah, you're right." I agreed, taking a few deep breaths to return my heart rate to normal.
I stepped out of the airlock, already knowing the way to Bay 17. Ironically, it was the same bay we docked in after our little encounter with the Blue Suns in Sigurd's Cradle. We passed one of the trading areas on our way through, the subdued sounds of idle conversations and small items clinking together readily apparent despite the heavy footfalls of my boots.
Once there, we could see that Admirals had pulled out the Lestiak, their oversized VIP shuttle. It was big enough to fit a full sized conference setup, along with the Admirals and select members of the Conclave. It wasn't very often that they used it. As a matter of fact, the last time I remember seeing them use it was when they first visited the Klenot System after our encounter with Cerberus.
That must have been why they would only let me bring one other person with me.
"Ah, glad you finally arrived, Captain." Raan greeted, giving both me and Mara a firm handshake. "We are ready to depart."
"Let's get to it, then." I said, following her into the shuttle where everyone else was.
The ride over to the Idenna was strangely quiet, which was odd, especially with this many officials in the same room. Gerrel and Raan were the only two Admirals here, but the Conclave representatives consisted of two Captains I could not name off the top of my head. I had seen them before, but didn't know them on a named basis. I sat near the edge of the table, across from the Admirals, while Mara stood silently in the back. All in all, there were seven of us here, not counting the guards behind us. A minute later, I felt a thump go through the shuttle as we landed inside the old Batarian Hensa-class cruiser.
I nervously tried to straighten the wrinkles out of the bottom of my lab coat before the door on the other end of the shuttle opened, revealing Captain Mal and the three "guests" in ill-fitting envirosuits. They walked to the center, sitting down in front of us.
"I would like you to meet Admiral Shala'Raan vas Tombay, Admiral Han'Gerrel vas Neema, Captain Daro'Zen vas Moreh, Captain Carra'Nol vas Shellen, and Captain Sean'Michaels vas Explorer." Captain Mal introduced, moving down the line until he finished at me.
While I couldn't see her face, I could tell she focused on each one of us, especially me. Her body language seemed normal, though it certainly wasn't relaxed. I couldn't blame her, she had apparently been brought back as some odd Pilgrimage gift.
"Kahlee Sanders, do you understand why we have brought you here?" Gerrel started off, folding his hands on the table in front of him.
"You think I might know something about Saren Arterius and how he was able to control the Geth." She replied in a calm tone, standing straighter.
Her answer had actually surprised me, suddenly bringing back a flood of thoughts. If that was what Saren had actually done, then that would explain the schism between the "heretic" Geth and the rest of them behind the Veil.
The first line of questioning was fairly basic, as they asked her about her past affiliations with Saren and some research she had apparently done years ago, long before Dan and I ever came into the picture. I wasn't prepared for the next line, however.
"Have you ever heard of a species called the Reapers?" Gerrel asked, causing me to quickly turn my head and face him in sudden disbelief. I looked back at Kahlee to see her shake her head in acknowledgment.
The Admirals actually believed in the Reapers?
"There is word coming from the Citadel that Saren's flagship, Sovereign, was actually an advanced A.I." She replied, keeping a calm and collected posture going. "It was alive, just one of an entire race of enormous, sentient ships called the Reapers."
"Those are just rumors." The man in the envirosuit behind her interjected before I could ask for more information on the Reapers. "There's no proof to support those theories."
"But it could explain why the Geth followed Saren." Gerrel suggested in a tone akin to a rebuttal. "An advanced A.I. might have been able to override the Geth's rudimentary intelligence systems."
"I'm not quite sure about that, Admiral." I said, looking over to him as all eyes turned towards me. "If that was possible, our experiments would have come up with something like that by this point."
He knew I was referring to Powell and his prior interactions with the Geth.
"That's not proof of anything, Captain." Gerrel argued back to me as he focused exclusively on me for that moment. "Your colleague's little experiment might simply lack the kind of power needed to do so."
While I believed he was entirely wrong, I held back on any rebuttals for the sake of keeping the meeting going.
"But if Sovereign was a Reaper, then there could be more of its kind." The other Captain argued, sitting back in her chair with crossed arms and a curious voice. "They could be lying dormant in unexplored regions of space, just waiting for someone to accidentally discover and awaken them."
Now I recognized her. Daro'Xen. She was the one that described my ODP as a "beauty" during my initial presentation to the Conclave a few months ago.
"Maybe," Kahlee replied with a shrug, seeming to me like she was simply confused or was unwilling to divulge any more information.
"I'm pretty sure running around looking for a Reaper is one of the things we should not be doing." I argued once more, finding Xen's proposition rather ridiculous. "Besides, you already have the Geth to worry about. People will start thinking we've created these things if we inadvertently unleash one."
From that point on, the entire conversation devolved into speculation over the hair-brained idea of controlling a Reaper. I ended up filtering most of the drivel out, though I was still stuck on whether or not the Geth had willingly left with Saren, or were controlled. It was a troubling prospect either way, and both didn't bode well in either scenario.
I ended up looking at the little girl, who looked to be around the age of 11 or 14. She fidgeted a lot in her seat, making odd hand gestures occasionally and looking at everything around her in a curious manner.
I recognized her behavior ticks. They were very similar to the ones I made when I was much younger, and a lot like the ones my late cousin David made. She was autistic.
As the meeting ended and the three guests left the shuttle, Gerrel called me and Mara over.
"What is wrong with you?" I started before he could, waving my hand in anger before forcing myself to simmer down. "Controlling the Reapers? Are you insane?"
"All we're doing is considering all the possibilities, Captain." Gerrel replied in an annoyed tone, crossing his arms. "We will retake the homeworld one of these days, one way or another."
I felt like I wasn't getting the whole explanation here.
"I wasn't even aware you and the rest of the Admiralty believed in the Reapers, let alone entertaining the possibility of "controlling" them." I remarked, looking back at Xen as she spoke with Nol. "When were you planning on cluing the rest of us in?"
"To be honest, we didn't find it all that important at the time." He answered, arms still crossed. "If we had known you were involved with the subject, then we might have said something sooner."
I crunched up the corner of my mouth out of mild anger, taking a deep breath in and out before he spoke once more.
"Anyway, that wasn't the only reason why I wanted you to come here." Gerrel began, moving in closer to me. "While Captain Ysin'Mal is at the next Conclave with us, I'd like you and Dr. Ford to stay here on the Idenna and keep them company for a while."
"You want us to try and ween more information out of them." I guessed, causing Gerrel's body language to shift from confident to annoyed in a matter of seconds.
"I didn't say that." He replied in a sterner tone, pointing at me in an accusing manner. "Either way, this isn't a request this time, Captain. It's an order."
I looked down slightly as I realized the position I had just put Mara and myself into.
"We're not spies, Admiral." Mara argued, taking a few steps forward. "You expect us to just sit here and ask questions all day?"
"No, just talk about the Fleet, explain our culture from your point of view, and keep them comfortable until the Conclave has ended. That's all I ask for." He explained in a slightly more sympathetic tone, looking hard at both of us. "If they happen to mention anything else in that time, then you can tell us about it later."
I weighed the options in my head for a moment, before realizing that there really were none. We were now stuck here.
"Fine, I suppose we'll stay here for a while." I reluctantly agreed, letting out another heavy sigh.
"I'm glad we could see eye-to-eye, Captain." Gerrel remarked, looking harder at me before leaning back. "Do a good job. Good luck."
"Yes'sir." I finished, as the two of us walked out into the shuttle bay to see the three walking away.
Taking a quick peek around to see if anyone was within earshot, I quickly opened up our channel with Lydia.
"Hey, it turns out we'll be over here on the Idenna for a while." I said into my omni-tool without addressing anyone. "Let Lenlo know, and keep an eye on things while we're gone."
I received a confirmation ping back, nodding to the green light as I looked back to Mara.
"Sorry I dragged you into this, I should have known there was more to this." I apologized as we slowly began walking to catch up with Kahlee and the two other people with her.
"It's alright, you had no way of knowing." She accepted, bumping her helmet against mine in a mild show of affection. "Let's hope our new guests are conversationalists."
I smiled back at her through the faceplate as we ran up to the group, nearing the end of the shuttle bay.
This was either going to be really interesting or horribly awkward. Or both, depending on what came first.
…
(For those interested in seeing a stylized A.I. depiction of what Mara looks like in her and Sean's intimate moment, go to [ imgur DOT com SLASH a SLASH E63chNa ]
A/N: So, Sean turns 31, things get a little hot and heavy between him and Mara, and the events of Mass Effect: Ascension go into effect. The future holds many interesting things, for those of you who read Ascension. If you haven't, don't feel left out. Will Sean and Mara learn anything interesting? Will they bond with Kahlee and the others, or will things become frosty and hostile?
The progress is slow, but steady! I've been having a blast writing as of late, now that I've gotten back into the groove of things. I've got interesting plans for future chapters, but first Sean and Mara need to get through Ascension.
Also, I've realized that I've been more than a little vague as to the location of the Klenot system. It is located somewhere between the Rosetta Nebula and the Pylos Nebula if you were to draw a line between the two. It's in a fairly empty region of space, meaning it's a good distance from everything.
I'd love to read any reviews, I'm always up for suggestions or constructive criticism! Stay tuned!